


Singer's Sanctuary For Lost Angels

by lemonpie



Series: Wild Child [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels as Animals, Balthazar is a cutie, Feral AU, Feral Behavior, Lucifer and Michael are mention only right now, M/M, Part 3 of the Wild Child 'Verse, Samandriel is also a cutie, Wild Angels, you should probably go read let the rain to understand this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-05 20:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14626641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonpie/pseuds/lemonpie
Summary: It had all started with that damn angel that had followed Dean from Kansas. Bobby Singer had never planned on being an angel keeper, but, a year and a half after two injured angels arrive on his doorstep screaming for his nephew, he looks down at the baby angel clinging to his front and he knows he doesn't have the heart to send them away.(Each angel falls into place at Singer's Scrapyard. This is how they do.)





	1. Balthazar

**Author's Note:**

> yooooooooooo part 3 of wild child, this came from a few comments i got on the previous fics. hopefully this outlines angel behaviour a little better. <£

Balthazar was cold. That was the thing he hated most in the world right at that moment. It was cold, and he was running but he didn’t know where he was going. The one with the big gold wings who’d given him food had told him about a place not far from where he was where he could get help. 

Help was something Balthazar desperately needed. He couldn’t fly, because he’d gotten into a fight with an angel with huge, silver wings and his own wing had been crumpled. He’d bolted quickly after that, but it still hurt. 

So he ran, stumbling over the forest floor, almost tripping more than once. Eventually, though, he came to the “junkyard” that the golden winged angel had told him about. 

Fear gripped him, and he remembered what his mama had said about humans. 

“ **_They’re dangerous, little star, very dangerous. They could easily kill you and wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. You stay away from them, you hear?_ ** ”

Balthazar had nodded his head, fledgling wings ruffling in the wind, and his mama had smiled and patted his head and told him to drink from the river. 

And now, here he was, still pale-winged and injured, perched on top of one of the metal husks, watching an angel and a human walk side by side without any issues. 

For the first time in his short life, Balthazar considered the idea that his mama had been wrong. Still, he stayed to the edges of the junkyard, climbed in and out of the metal shells, and danced around the idea of approaching the humans or the other angels. 

Until the pain in his wing got too much. Then, he finally, skittishly, got closer to the taller human with the green eyes and the kind smile. With the wing that wasn’t hurt puffed up as much as he could and the one that was held awkwardly out from his body, Balthazar slid up to the man and slowly,  _ slowly _ , placed down the shiny rock he’d collected from the forest and nudged it towards him. 

“Hey there, little dude. You brought me a rock? That’s real nice.” Said the human, stooping to pick up the gift. It shone like Balthazar’s feathers in the sunlight and it was one of his favorites. “Thank you.” 

The other angel, the one with the dark wings, watched the interaction with what Balthazar thought was amusement. 

“How about we get that wing of yours looked at, huh, little guy?” Said the human, and Balthazar didn’t understand much but he did understand when the man held his hand out he wanted to be followed. 

And Balthazar did. 

From there, the human took him into the building, where there were two more humans and the golden-winged angel, and the big human with the beard set his wing. It hurt, but once it was done the ache faded. 

The man with the beard (Bobby, he’d learn later) gave him some food and some fresh water and made him a little nest with some blankets and pillows and as Balthazar curled up to the scent of fresh lavender and human, he found his mama had been wrong after all. 

He fell asleep warm for the first time since his feathers had started to color. 

Bobby Singer wrote the first page of his book that evening, in scrawling pencil, just scribbling down notes. 

_ Angels give gifts to those that they trust. Usually a stone or rock, or, in rare cases, a feather from their own wings. The gift indicates their trust in the individual they’re giving it to, or, in angels with fully darkened wings, it can be part of a courtship. Angels are very much like birds in that regard. An angel’s wings are the most important part of their bodies, and some can spend hours preening themselves. If an angel gives you a feather, it is a sign of complete trust.  _

(Six and a half months later, Bobby Singer would wake up to a pale yellow feather resting on his pillow. That would be the first angel feather he ever received, but it would not be the last.)


	2. Anael/Samandriel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one took so long!! ch7 of let the rain is in the works but im kind of blocked with it rn. hope you guys enjoy this one!!

Anael knew, logically, that she was dying. Her baby clung to her chest tightly, his snowy wings tucked in close, fast asleep, and still she ran. She ran fast and far, because she had to.

There had been rumours among the flocks, of a place called Singer’s, where angels could go and be safe. That was where she was taking her son. Somewhere he’d be safe. 

Where he’d be loved. 

She didn’t  _ want  _ to give him up. Never,  _ never _ . But she had to, she had to save her baby. Her delicate violet wings spread, and she beat them once, twice, and launched herself into the air. 

She crash landed some time later, in the ‘scrapyard’, and tears rose to her eyes as she cradled her son, her Samandriel, kissing his little blonde head one last time. 

Her cheeks were wet when she gently placed him down on the mat outside the door, and she smoothed his hair back once more before rapping hard on the door a few times.

For the very last time, she turned back and laid eyes on her child, her beautiful baby, and then she took off. 

-

Baby angels hadn’t been on the list when Bobby had signed up. Then again, he hadn’t ‘signed up’ so much as forced into it.

He sighed deeply and cradled the little guy close to his chest, his stone heart melting a little as he sniffled and shifted closer, those tiny wings fluffing.

Bobby didn’t much like babies, but baby  _ angels  _ were a different matter entirely.

A fact he’d remind himself of many, many times over the next six months, pacing endlessly around the kitchen with a wailing toddler in his tired arms, shushing him repeatedly until he fell asleep.

It was with baby Samandriel asleep in his lap that Bobby Singer wrote the second page of his accidental book.

_ Baby angels are much like baby humans in that they require twenty-four hour care. Babies with fully white wings are completely protected by the entire flock, and generally they can get away with anything. An angels wings will start to color when they are around two years old, and they will begin to fledge at around two and a half. A baby angel relies completely on their mother to build their nests for them until they reach four years old, and will continue to seek their mother’s guidance until they are around eight.  _

(Bobby glanced down at the sleeping child on his lap, at the pale brown wings that were curled around the boy to keep him warm, and he smiled, just a little, and added one last line to the page.)

_ Plus, they’re pretty darn cute. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <33

**Author's Note:**

> kudos/comment if you liked!! <3


End file.
